Through a Venetian Blind – Poem #88

Momma would dust the venetian blinds
every Saturday morning
open and close them
with a pull of the cord
watching the world blink
appear, disappear and change
reappearing the same yet slightly different.

Now cranes appear through open blinds
unafraid messengers of a sort
spying from their perch, all stilt and neck;
do they despise us or think we are ugly
thick of leg and round of head
unable to dance?

I have left the city
where people cannot love themselves
to live among the cranes
promenading quietly passed blinded windows
treating me indifferently
as I revel in the accomplishments of quiet.

.

About toritto

I was born during year four of the reign of Emperor Tiberius Claudius on the outskirts of the empire in Brooklyn. I married my high school sweetheart, the girl I took to the prom and we were together for forty years until her passing in 2004. We had four kids together and buried two together. I had a successful career in Corporate America (never got rich but made a living) and traveled the world. I am currently retired in the Tampa Bay metro area and live alone. One of my daughters is close by and one within a morning’s drive. They call their pops everyday. I try to write poetry (not very well), and about family. Occasionally I will try a historical piece relating to politics. :-)
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3 Responses to Through a Venetian Blind – Poem #88

  1. beetleypete says:

    Love those cranes, and love quiet too. You summed it up perfectly.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. jfwknifton says:

    Cranes are way better than humans. Such elegant and musical birds.

    Liked by 1 person

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